


Hands On

by RintrahRoARS



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Other, Science Experiments, Status Effects, Verstael is very horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RintrahRoARS/pseuds/RintrahRoARS
Summary: Ardyn can't die. Verstael needs to test the viability of status effects in the field. His approach to studying his favorite test subject might be a little too hands-on.
Relationships: Verstael Besithia/Ardyn Izunia
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Hands On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vanitasunverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitasunverse/gifts).



> For Rai, because this was going to haunt me until Someone wrote it.
> 
> Fanart drawn by [vanitasunverse on twitter](https://twitter.com/vanitasunverse/status/1287499063760478216)

Verstael could keep at his inspection of the two millennia old man for ages before it ceased to be amusing to him. However, he expected his favorite subject’s patience had run out long ago.

His study had since concluded by now, beyond his initial exam. At first, all he had done was run tests on samples of his skin and hair, check his vitals, test the limits of his regenerative abilities. Normal wellness check practices. 

Those exams had concluded nearly a year ago, and while the results were fascinating, there was no way around that window that had already come to a close. Ardyn had since been given his own accommodations and no longer resided in a recycled office in the laboratory. There were rumors that Ardyn was to receive some lofty title from the emperor. Though this was very good for Verstael’s pockets, as Ardyn worked closely with him to make his work more appealing to the emperor, it meant that things were very different from when the man had first stumbled into the light. 

It was when he began his work on the viability of creating a Magitek army that something occurred to him.

During the process of drawing up schematics, the question arose of just what exactly standard equipment would look like for each MT. Each would have to be equipped with what was currently the norm for their flesh and blood predecessors, but the daemon in the machine would be capable of so much more. Or so he hoped, anyway. 

He began looking into chemical weapons when it dawned on him that he already had the perfect test subject for these trial runs. What better way to find the effects of weapons of war on the human form than by using a man who couldn't die? 

No, it certainly wasn't an excuse to return to those days. It was simply more humane, cost efficient, and there would be little to no cleanup or other consequences. Provided that Ardyn obliged him, of course. That was all.

Ardyn was surprisingly disinterested in the prospect. While his well-being would hardly be in danger, he had expressed, subjecting himself to what amounted to torture over several days, possibly weeks, was low on his list of ways he preferred to pass time. 

Having said that, it took very little convincing to get him onboard despite his qualms. The thought of bringing the immortal into his facility again had Verstael giddy with anticipation. 

He dispatched his team across Niflheim's reaches to collect samples, using mainly items collected from wildlife, and, Six willing, whatever they could harvest from daemonic entities. The result was that Verstael had come into an interesting assortment of prototype chemical weapons, each one carefully logged, and a sample prepared for each individual prototype. These were what he hoped to administer to the other man, who would provide valuable data on how they would interact with humans.

But the appealing prospect: his favorite play toy was returning to him. 

They spoke, of course; Ardyn provided invaluable information that greatly aided his research. And with his hand in the growing interest in magiteknology, it was impossible for them to not be in contact at least semi regularly. But this particular matter was not in his job description, so to speak. It was something Verstael had missed dearly.

When Ardyn first arrived, they began immediately. 

Verstael had rows of samples that could be consumed, crushed easily in the hand and administered like an elixir. Ardyn was the one in control here, he reminded him repeatedly, though it was with glee that he showed the sample box to the other.

"This is very simple. I would like you to select five from this box - that will be all I require for the day - and we will test their effects one at a time," Verstael explained, watching as Ardyn's brow furrowed in contemplation as he looked at each item. "Read the label to me before each one, and once I give the signal, I want you to administer it to yourself. Understood?"

Ardyn's skeptical expression didn't fade as he pondered the contents of each philter. Verstael almost couldn't contain the giddy feeling as the man selected his five, including one that he had placed deliberately off of the center in the tray, hoping that it would be chosen. The giddiness only grew as Ardyn took his place in the center of the chamber below the observation platform.

"Read the label to me out loud," said Verstael, sitting up quite straight in his chair as he watched the other man, pen in hand and eager to observe.

He watched as Ardyn changed the position of the item in his hand, from a readied position to one where its label could be read, turning the object over delicately with a slight frown. Verstael could attest to the fact that there was nothing wrong with his vision, but perhaps this was a learned behavior. It made him appear more human. _Fascinating._

“It says XX88-CRS,” he said, his frown deepening, possibly in suspicion. “What is this? What is ‘CRS?’” 

Verstael raised one hand to motion at him passively, then clenched his fist to imitate using the philter. “Why ask, when you can find out for yourself?”

The answer clearly did not satisfy, evident by the roll of Ardyn’s eyes, but he did comply. The container which held the sample evaporated cleanly as he used it with a satisfying sound of breaking glass. 

Instantly, the man reeled on his feet, groaning and holding his head. “I must admit, I don’t care for this.”

“That’s alright, it isn’t intended for _you_ anyway,” said Verstael, making a note of his physical reaction on the paper in front of him. “How would you say you feel, after consumption?”

Ardyn looked up at him, shaking his head. “Overall, thoroughly unpleasant, like the weakness that comes with the common cold. Are you certain this is for use in combat?”

“Determining that is the purpose of these tests,” he answered, wiping the smile from his face as he looked back from his papers to Ardyn. “The box on the table contains restorative items to remove the effects of each sample. I encourage you to make use of them between each test.”

As much as he would love to just let them stack, each test needed to be fresh in order to properly observe the symptoms. He watched as Ardyn used one of the remedies, then motioned to him to begin the next one. 

“XX94-FRZ,” he read aloud. 

Then, without saying another word, the philter was crushed in his palm. 

Ardyn surprised him, by not even flinching as a chilled tinge overtook his body in interesting fractals, like frost forming on a plant. Within seconds, the man was covered in the frost, and the crystalline formation encased him in a sheen of ice, freezing him solid. 

Verstael clicked his tongue once in amusement, chuckling at Ardyn’s plight as he made a note, then rose to his feet. Perhaps these tests were better observed up close and in person, if he would have to aid him with the treatment of these afflictions.

He did not hide his expression of mirth, until he crossed the room, and realized that Ardyn’s eyes were still firmly fixed on him, _following_ him as he passed by. The displeasure was obvious on his expression, which was otherwise unmoving, and not least of all unsettling. His blood felt as icy as the man before him, his smile instantly vanishing. Without another word, he applied the remedy, then made a hasty retreat to his worktable.

“XX03-ITC.”

At first, this one appeared to have no effect. 

As Verstael was about to write it off, Ardyn began to look oddly uncomfortable, a strange expression on his face. After a moment, he clutched at his left sleeve with his right hand, rubbing his arm. When this appeared to do nothing, he tried to reach inside his sleeve, evidently to get at the skin underneath.

“What’s happening?” asked Verstael. 

The man was now visibly in a great deal of discomfort, his posture disrupted by whatever was happening to him as he squirmed. He uttered a series of small, anxious moans, to Verstael’s delight.

“My skin feels as though it’s burning,” he said. “It’s my clothing, somehow. I can’t seem to get comfortable.”

“Go ahead and take a remedy,” said Verstael, admittedly somewhat disappointed. The sight was amusing, but this one would prove absolutely useless on a battlefield. 

Ardyn crushed one in his palm, but his expression was unchanging. He still pawed miserably at his clothes.

“No use?” 

Ardyn shook his head in response, then did something unexpected. He loosened the scarf around his neck first, then unfastened his layered vest.

“What are you doing now?” asked Verstael, a bewildered look on his face as Ardyn shed his coat to the floor. He could _see_ what was happening, he just wasn’t sure he believed it.

The other man clutched at his chest, a furious look in his eyes as the vest was removed, and his shirt buttons were unfastened one by one, each more urgently than the last. 

It wasn’t as though Verstael had never seen him unclothed before, during the period spent studying him. But it was the first time he had been properly dressed to begin with, and now he was shedding each horrible layer of his clothing as if it was the only thing that would stop the sensation. 

And it very well might have been. Apparently XX03-ITC was nothing more than a skin irritant. 

Ardyn stood angrily, and now naked, in front of Verstael. The burning sensation had apparently ceased, as he was no longer acting like a crazed animal. Instead stood with his arms placed at his hips, his head tilted to one side as he glowered up at him, unashamed as anything. It was easy to let the eyes wander, watching as the man’s chest heaved with a sigh of frustration, dipping lower down his form, then quickly averting his eyes when he realized they had wandered too far.

Verstael rubbed one gloved hand down his own face, looking sharply down at the paper in front of him. He couldn’t say he was shy, but social conventions and the murderous look in Ardyn’s eyes made him think it unwise to gawk, lest he found himself among his daemonified test subjects. 

“What are the other two remaining samples?” Verstael asked.

Ardyn went to the table again to inspect the remaining two philters. “The first is XX92-CHM, and the other is XX97-STN.”

Verstael drummed his fingers, a cruel thought occurring to him, in spite of himself. “Why don’t you take these two together?”

The majority of the samples collected were from wildlife with well-documented track records of inflicting their victims with strange illnesses, though Verstael had not witnessed most of their effects, and had gathered information through references and word of mouth from the Hunter HQ grapevine. 

These two, however, were another matter.

One of the new recruits had gotten petrified while in the field. It had been all the team could do to recover him, and cure him, so Verstael had almost not received this important sample. Though he knew what it contained, he was testing its viability as a weapon of war. 

The remaining philter contained something far crueler, to a man who could shake off any other ailment without batting an eye. 

This one, Verstael had the misfortune of experiencing himself only once before. 

"The one marked CHM first, if you please," said Verstael. "I will have to assist you again with the fifth one."

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in me,” said Ardyn, but he showed no resistance. He played reluctant, but Verstael had learned better. The man had as much of a curious nature as anyone else, with the exception of himself, of course. If he wasn’t curious, he would not comply with what was asked of him. The mystery of what was contained in each concoction was too great a temptation even for him.

_Crack._

The container dissipated from his hand, and a long silence passed between them.

It wasn’t quite noticeable, but similar to the ITC prototype sample, after some moments had passed, it was clear that _something_ was happening.

First, Ardyn shifted his weight to one side, his hands returning to the position on his hips. 

Then, one hand went to his face, rubbing his cheek, then traveling to the back of his neck. A stress response.

Under the lights, the man's skin, his face and even his shoulders began to look unnaturally flushed. His breathing deepened, and his forehead broke out into a sweat that obviously bothered him. He wiped at his brow with the back of his hand, chest rising and falling beautifully as his discomfort grew. 

Verstael smirked at him, though he tried to appear innocent, angling his chin down so he appeared to be looking down at the paper before him rather than staring. He played with the pen in his hand a moment. Saying nothing. Waiting.

Waiting to hear from Ardyn first.

"Gods," he breathed, closing his eyes to rub at them. It was uncommon to hear such an exclamation from him, much less an earnest one. Verstael's heart skipped a beat and he coughed to hide an oncoming snicker.

"What is this?" asked Ardyn, staggering on his feet. His eyes were becoming unfocused. 

Verstael could hardly believe his eyes when the other man bit his lip, consciously covering his mouth with one hand. As he watched the man squirm, he recalled the effects of the remaining sample. He hoped Ardyn was too preoccupied to remember.

"What have you done to me?" asked Ardyn, swaying again. He closed his eyes again, his breathy voice faltering. He looked like his legs would give out at any moment. "Besithia…"

There were very few things Verstael would describe as beautiful, but hearing Ardyn all but whisper his name nearly topped that list. At the very least, he felt even he was being consumed by something, and he wasn't the one who just took an aphrodisiac. 

"You surprise me, Izunia," purred Verstael, bold enough to address the being before him in return. "As durable as you are, I wouldn't have thought any of these ailments would prove so difficult for you to keep your focus. Please describe to me your symptoms in detail."

Ardyn's eyes flew open at that, staring up at him dumbfounded. Verstael wasn't being very secretive as he toyed with him. If he hadn't been found out before, that look told him he was seen. 

And Gods, did those eyes spell out exactly what was on Ardyn's mind. 

"Besithia," Ardyn said hoarsely, gritting his teeth. "I fail to see how _this_ will aid your research."

The man was so clearly lightheaded, delirious from the effects of the aphrodisiac. It was all he could do to stay on his feet. 

Verstael was in the presence of more than just royalty, as close to a deity as a human could ever become. If the man could not stand, he would have loved nothing more than to see him kneel.

A growing discomfort had started to make itself known to Verstael, as well. His arousal was hidden well beneath his uniform, he hoped, but there was a fire in him. He wanted to lunge at the man below him, and whatever happened next would be between them and the envious Astrals themselves.

Ardyn's legs collapsed, sitting back on his calves, one hand supporting his weight as he leaned to one side. "A remedy… Besithia, I need…"

Verstael thought he was going to explode, no matter how Ardyn ended that sentence. 

Ardyn's hands twitched, itching for something, but he didn't move them. Rightfully so, he was holding himself back.

Verstael decided to offer him one kindness. Perhaps it could be called a kindness. He would see how things played out once he had administered a remedy to him.

"Recall the remaining sample," said Verstael, his own voice wavering, but only barely. "Please administer XX97-STN."

Ardyn's expression turned into a scowl, but he slowly struggled to pull himself back up to his feet. Verstael then realized that the reason he had fallen was not because of the dizziness that came from his condition, but because he was hiding something else entirely. 

As Ardyn turned, stumbled, Verstael tried not to let his eyes linger on his half erect cock, instead trying to ignore his own, which was becoming painful from inattention. He reached his free hand below the desk, applying a pleasant pressure to his groin to try and get _some_ relief.

The last of the day's samples in hand, Ardyn leaned with one arm against the table that held the remedies. Verstael could not physically prevent him from healing himself, if he chose, but he didn't. Instead, he reached for the prototype, and crushed it in one hand.

His chest and shoulders heaved as he all but panted, turning again to face Verstael.

"Verstael," growled Ardyn, though it surprisingly wasn't a sound of anger. He stumbled forward once, twice. "I cannot continue like this. I implore-- _Please_ . Cease this… This _hunger_."

Verstael's eyes widened, but thankfully he didn't have to ask what exactly Ardyn was requesting of him. The sample was taking effect. 

Ardyn's slowly encroaching footsteps stopped suddenly, as if something had grabbed ahold of the leg that trailed behind him, holding him back. The look of surprise on Ardyn's face made Verstael cover his mouth with the hand that had previously held the pen, muffling a pained moan. His hips moved slightly now, simple pressure not enough.

"Stone?" asked Ardyn, blinking almost innocent eyes at the texture that was slowly overtaking him. His feet were frozen in place, a dull, dusty color covering them. The stone crept up his legs, cementing him where he stood.

"You can't…" he murmured aloud, still overcome with arousal. _This isn't fair_.

He was almost painfully erect before, but now the petrification spread quickly, leaving it standing proudly no matter what its owner wished. 

Verstael was entranced. Ardyn's voice was ebbing away as the stone overtook him, but Verstael had heard. A soft moan as he stretched out one hand towards the observation platform, the other a bewildered fist.

With that, the man was silent. Immovable. And completely naked. An unexpected blessing, but a blessing nonetheless. 

Verstael, alone enough as far as he was concerned, breathed a shaky sigh. It wasn't a proud moment, but he took advantage of the opportunity to give himself some much needed relief right there, hiking up his robes feverishly. His eyes squeezed shut. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with the frozen god beneath him, even though he would never have another chance like this again to admire his figure. He knew that once he retired to his room, he would be at it again. He wondered if he would even sleep that night.

Panting, Verstael stood from his chair.

He walked across the room, feeling a little lightheaded himself, and went to the box of remedies once more.

He paused, however, looking at Ardyn, frozen, reaching for something. _For him?_

He ought to have been afraid of those hands. He knew what they were capable of. But if the man truly was a monster, there was no danger right now.

Verstael approached him, his cautious steps betraying the look of confidence he wore.

He clasped Ardyn's outstretched hand, not at all gently. 

Ardyn stood several inches taller than Verstael, and he was looking up, so he couldn't see his face properly while standing on the same level as him. He had seen enough from above, however. 

Verstael placed his other hand on Ardyn's cheek, as if to bring his gaze down to his height. He released Ardyn's hand, instead putting it over his throat, cupping his hand around it. 

In this state, could he still feel anything? If Verstael placed his hand over the other man’s heart, would he know who it was who worshipped his stone flesh?

The hand then trailed down his chest, over his core, and stopped abruptly. 

No, even Verstael had a boundary. Ardyn had been asking him for _something_ , and though he prayed he understood what it was he had cried out for, he pulled both of his hands away. 

It was a shame. It was such a shame.

A god had bared himself before him, had cried out his name, and in his greed he only wanted more. 

The remedy was broken against Ardyn's coarse skin shortly afterwards.

It took a few moments for Ardyn to collect himself, but everything seemed to return to normal. The flush was gone from his skin, and though his legs were shaky, he was fine. He dressed himself again, layer after layer, while Verstael took his notes.

So far, nothing. Only the sample that had petrified Ardyn would make it to the next round of tests, and even then, he didn't see it being used by his future MT models. It might be useful for captures, but the Niflheim rarely took prisoners, and the daemons were capable only of following simple orders. If the instruction was more complex than "kill," there was a good chance there would be a mess to clean up afterwards, regardless. 

Ardyn was taking his time, but Verstael pretended not to notice. 

Not until Ardyn stepped slowly up the stairs to the strut Verstael's workspace was on. He said nothing at first, merely watching his notes. It made Verstael nervous to have the man hovering over him, but after what he had done, he would hardly complain.

Ardyn inspected the other philters in the tray, turning the labels out so he could read them.

"Do you think you'll be ready for another round of tests tomorrow?" asked Verstael, blatantly ignoring his prying eyes. "Some of the effects of these prototypes are as of yet unidentified, and others, as you saw, are pretty nasty. If you need another day to recuperate, I understand."

Ardyn pulled one philter from the box, eyeing it for several moments. 

"Perhaps," he murmured, the first words he had spoken since coming out of his haze. His voice was no longer that airy sigh. 

Verstael found the back of his chair pulled abruptly away from his desk, Ardyn moving before he realized he had been spun around to face him. Something crashed against him, Ardyn slamming his clenched fist into Verstael's chest, surprise knocking the wind out of him with a groan.

"What… what was that? Which one did you just break?" he gasped out, clutching at his chest through his armor. 

Ardyn's hand remained resting on the chair behind Verstael, a cold grin plastered on his expression that made him swallow nervously. An odd noise sounded in his throat as the man stared him down.

"XX88-TD." Ardyn's answer was simple, and deliberate. He said nothing more than he needed to, and he looked more than a little smug as he towered over him.

Actually, was Verstael imagining it, or did Ardyn look taller than normal? Or… was _he_ shrinking??

There wasn't much time to process this new information, as he realized he was rapidly decreasing in size, his clothes spilling over him. As the armor swallowed him up, Verstael found himself in complete darkness.

He heard Ardyn whistling to himself, pausing only to chuckle. 

Verstael couldn't see a thing, didn't move, too surprised to do anything other than stay frozen and let the suddenly giant hand grasp him from within the confines of his uniform.

"There's a dear thing," cooed Ardyn, holding him oddly around his middle, before bringing his other hand to cup the entirety of Verstael's body in both of them. 

In the light, Verstael got a good look at the suddenly very different world around him, beginning with his own two hands. 

Gone were the familiar human hands, instead replaced by a filmy, copper colored webbing. He lifted one clumsy little paw, spreading the webbed appendage with a surprised chirp.

Ardyn laughed at the sound, deeper this time. A genuine laugh, though a mocking one.

"You seem upset," he said, nudging Verstael's head with one of his thumbs. "You'll have to speak up, if you want something though. I'm having difficulty understanding you, with that frog in your throat."

Verstael croaked angrily, snapping uselessly at Ardyn's finger when it drew too near.

"Ah-ah," he scolded, pulling the toad away from his face. "With an attitude like that, I'm afraid I shan't be kissing those lips. A little too slimy for my liking, you must understand."

With that, Verstael found himself deposited in the man's coat pocket, unable or unwilling to move as Ardyn exited the test chamber.


End file.
